


Closure

by wolfsan11



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Child Abandonment, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8921608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsan11/pseuds/wolfsan11
Summary: Between finding Pidge's family and healing up from the final battle against Zarkon, the Paladins only think of heading home, back to Earth. Keith has a hard time with that idea and the team helps.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So. Hi. My first fic in VLD fandom, and pretty much ever. This was SUPPOSED to be a lot shorter and Keith-centric, but I failed on both counts. Please be gentle and excuse my English and the random switches in POV, I just had to get it out here. No shipping, although you're welcome to take it that way.

For the first time in years, as far as Shiro can recall, space is silent. There’s no sound of ion cannons and return fire in the midst of heated battle, no wretched screams of fellow prisoners or jeers from the bloodthirsty crowds which so haunt his memories. Even the usual chatter from his team over the comms is notably absent.

Voltron has been forced apart by the magic of the last Druids, the Castle is wrecked and crashed not far from where he stands, and even his Lion is quiet, her warmth and power as tangible as ever. She remains kneeling on her haunches where she had touched down on the planet, right next to the Red Lion. His emotions run wild, interlaced with that of Black’s, but the lung-filling triumph is most prominent of all.

The figure of the Galran Emperor lies prone at his feet.

Shiro trembles where he stands, chest heaving, as his Galran arm powers down; the purple glow dies just as the life leaves Zarkon’s eyes. Somewhere behind him, he knows Keith is guarding his back, that Hunk, Pidge, and Lance are defending from their own Lions. The Red and Black Lion watch over them from mere meters away, damaged, but functional. The few remaining Galran soldiers on the ground stand stunned, staring at their fallen leader.

It makes an awful sense, Shiro supposes, that the final blow on the Emperor was delivered by the very arm that had been forced on him by the Galrans. Somehow, despite his power and the thousands of years of experience, even Zarkon could not understand the sheer tenacity of humans who simply refused to stand down.

“He’s dead,” Shiro says, staring down at their former foe. Zarkon looks intimidating even in death and Shiro is half terrified that the Galran is not truly gone, that they will fight till there is nothing left of them but shattered bones and dust.

There’s a crackle of static in Shiro’s ears, then, and he’s relieved to hear the Princess speak.

“Paladins…You’ve done it. The Galra formations are broken, the empire has fallen!” Her voice wavers with what sounds like tears, but there’s no hiding the brightness in her tone. Elation bubbles in Shiro, but he pushes it down because he knows it’s not quite over yet.

He whips around to glare at the Galran soldiers, some of who flinch back at seeing those sharp grey eyes aimed their way.

“Your empire is in ruins and Zarkon is dead. Stand down and surrender!” Shiro says firmly, loud enough to be heard across the battlefield.

There’s a tense moment, where he thinks the soldiers will attack them anyway, but a loud rumble from the Lions above them puts that idea to rest and they slowly drop to their knees, throwing their weapons down in defeat.

The Galran ships follow soon after, corralled together by a larger group of warships. The Alliance. The rebels from countless alien species are taking up the task of capturing the enemies and Shiro swears to never again lament over all the diplomatic missions they had been forced to undertake to gain their loyalty. It had all been worth it, to reach this point.

“Shiro.”

He turns to see Keith limping his way towards him, one hand hovering protectively over his injured right side, his sword at the ready in the other. He looks terrible, but still manages to make it to Shiro’s side with a wide smile on his bruised and bloodied face.

The Yellow Lion lands with an earth-juddering thud, followed quickly by the Blue and Green Lion. The three remaining Paladins are out in a flash, hurrying towards Keith and him. Shiro has a moment to register that they’re crying before Lance tackles them both, sending them off balance and crashing onto the ground in a heap.

Keith lets out a hiss, and then another when Pidge falls into them as well. Hunk grabs them all up into a giant group hug and they groan as they are crushed against each other in his arms. Their fingers clutch at dented, dirt-streaked armour and Lance lets out a stuttering laugh and whoops out loud.

“W-we can go home!”

That makes them pull back. The Paladins stare at each other in disbelief and Hunk’s legs buckle suddenly, sending them all to their knees. The Yellow Paladin’s eyes fill with tears again, and Lance is no better. Keith blinks, face wiped blank by the statement. Pidge, on the other hand, seems to deflate a little, and it doesn’t take much for Shiro to figure out why. He lays a reassuring hand on their shoulder.

“We’ll find them, Pidge. We’re closer than ever before to finding your family, and nothing else will have priority over that.”

Pidge’s eyes glisten but their unhesitant smile is tinged with hope and trust.

Lance sniffles softly, rubbing at the tears spilling over his cheeks.

“We can go home,” he whispers this time, grinning so wide and happy that everyone can’t help but smile back. Shiro laughs softly, shaking his head. He thinks suddenly of his mother and his grandfather and briefly lets himself entertain the idea that he really will see them again. How would they react?

Would his mother cry, would his grandfather still be there to ruffle his hair with pride? Would they be proud of him, or horrified by all that he’d done in the midst of war…Would they even believe him? He finds it hard to keep his face straight after that, and Keith must see this as he awkwardly pats him on the back, trying to comfort him as Shiro had done for Pidge. Shiro initiates the hug this time, pulling them all in, and they sit together as utter shock and relief descends upon them.

That’s how Allura and Coran find them later, and they don’t say a word, only hold on to them just as tight. It takes a long time before they are ready to move on to the Castle, and with linked hands and giddy laughs, they make their way back together.

**

Later, Shiro curses himself for not noticing.

**

In the days that follow, there’s hardly a moment to breath, as busy as they are with the sudden influx of responsibilities on their hands. Between handling repairs, healing up and meeting with the Alliance to negotiate terms, all while detaining the remaining supporters of Zarkon and releasing colonies and captured prisoners, the team hardly have the time to see each other.

It also means that their trip back home is temporarily delayed; a fact which lays heavy on all of them. Lance tries not to be bitter, he really does, but…he had invested too much of himself into returning home. Allura apologises to them, pained by their obvious longing, but helpless to the simple truth that they were still needed.

“I’ll get you home as soon as we gain some stability,” she promises, and they accept it, because they know it to be true. She has never steered them wrong before, and trusting her is a given thing.

On the upside, most of them managed to get out of the final battle with some minor scrapes and wounds, except for Keith maybe, who had collapsed as soon as they had returned to the Castle. Rather, it wasn’t an upside at all. It had been terrifying at the time, especially once they found the cryo-replenishers room in ruins, alongside what felt like three-quarters of the Castle.

They’d had to make do with the _primitive_ technique of manually-administered medicine, stitches, bandages, and plenty of food and bed rest. But, of course, Keith being Keith meant no one could restrain him to the bed for longer than two days before he was on his feet again.

_‘Probably brooding and contemplating his dumb majestic mullet or the next best way to worry the pants off of everyone’,_ Lance thinks darkly.

Hunk takes over much of the repair work at the Castle alongside Coran, which frees Pidge to concentrate wholly on finding their family. Lance will forever maintain that Hunk is the best person ever; everyone concurs until Hunk is blushing red in the face.

Shiro and Allura try their best to divide themselves between helping out in the Castle and meeting with the allies, but being the decisive Heads of Voltron means that much of their time is caught up in the latter. Lance isn’t bothered though and neither is Pidge; with everyone else occupied, the task of finding prisoners of the Galra fall to him, Pidge and Keith.

Naturally, he and Pidge immediately team up to head out on missions and keep conveniently ‘forgetting’ to tell Keith. It’s the only way to make the idiot take it easy and Pidge is entirely on board with Lance, which is enough support to convince him that it’s a genius idea no matter how much Keith glares at him with each ‘slip-up’.

A week passes, and with every batch of prisoners found without seeing their family, Pidge seems to curl in to themself just a little further. Still, they don’t give up. Pidge volunteers for every rescue, refuses to slow down or take a break, ready to go at all hours.

It’s not much different from Keith’s M.O. which is a rather frightening thought; one reckless Paladin is enough to cause Lance a stroke, and he’s just starting to think that he should probably employ the same ‘slip-ups’ with the Green Paladin as well, when they find the breakthrough they’ve been waiting for.

A distress signal shows up on the star map in the control room, and Lance looks over at Pidge, raising an eyebrow. They nod, turning away to get ready, and Lance pretends not to have seen the desperation in their furrowed brows and fisted hands.

**

They’re in a deserted sector of space, scanning the depths for any hint of the ship from where they’d received the signal, when Lance sees it.

A Galra ship.

Pidge swears profusely and they both stop in their tracks, pulling back the Lions in the vague hope that they haven’t been spotted.

“It was a goddamn trap!” Pidge hisses and Lance is inclined to agree, except…

“Pidge, wait. I haven’t picked up on any other ships on the radar.”

Through the video feed, Lance sees them frown down at their controls.

“Wouldn’t there be more if this was supposed to be an ambush? Our radars would find them.”

“Maybe they were calling out to the Galrans and just didn’t expect Voltron to pick up the signal? No, that can’t be it.” they contemplate, chewing at their hair which, Lance notices, has grown past their chin again from the last haircut. If they weren’t in the middle of a possible confrontation, he would have suggested a proper hair care regime which did not involve _saliva_ as conditioner.

They’re silent as they watch the ship and Lance slowly realizes it’s not actually moving so much as floating along with the force of its last manoeuvre. Pidge has noticed it as well and they ask him if they should risk checking it out.

Lance is wary of getting close, right until he receives a request for communication from the ship. He exchanges a puzzled glance with Pidge, and both of them seem to be thinking along the same lines. Whatever it is, it’s just one ship. They can handle it, surely.

Lance accepts, and links Pidge in as he does. A screen materialises next to theirs, audio crackling loudly.

“-better not be lying to me, scum.”

The sudden words make his heart beat a little faster in anticipation, and Lance braces himself as he’s confronted with…the back of a head. What.

Whoever is in the ship hasn’t realised that the video feed has gone through.

_‘Talk about awkward_ ’, Lance thinks.

The alien is still talking to whomever is behind them, and Lance takes note of their thin frame and the white fur of their head. Well, it didn’t seem to be Galran…

When it becomes clear that the alien has no idea the communication is underway, he clears his throat pointedly to catch its attention.

He reels back in shock when the alien whirls around to reveal a humanoid face.

No, it’s not even a humanoid alien; it’s an actual human being.

Holy mackerel.

The man staring back at him seems familiar, though his hair ( _not fur, what on Earth had he been thinking?_ ) is choppier than usual, as though it had been cut by someone with no experience. Or possibly by someone in dire need of a coffee fix, who knows. His face is weathered and engraved with deep lines which speak of exhaustion, and without his glasses, he is harder to recognize. But Lance had seen this man a long time ago, back at the Garrison, and also back in Pidge’s memories during their mind melding exercises. He _knows_ this man.

“Dr. Holt?!” he gasps.

In the video feed, Pidge is sitting upright, mouth wide open in shock.

The ex-Commander of the Kerberos mission peers at him in confusion.

“Oh my, are you…You’re human.”

Before Lance can reply, Pidge cuts in with a shrill “Dad!”

Dr. Holt sits up as Pidge had, then leans closer to squint at the screen. His face goes slack as recognition hits and he pulls back, still staring.

“Katie! Oh my God, Katie?!” he shouts, eyes wide.

Another voice sounds out from the background, a shocked “Katie?” Then a new face slides in next to the Commander’s, someone looking remarkably and _ridiculously_ similar to Pidge.

“Matt.” The word is wrenched from Pidge’s mouth, their eyes filling suddenly with tears.

“Wha- how? _How_ are you even here?!”

Lance watches as Pidge shakes their head rapidly, hair flying up into a storm of tawny brown.

“That doesn’t matter right now. I’m coming to get you, just stay put!”

**

When they touchdown in the ship, they meet a group of weary aliens clad in the same ragged prison wear that they’d found Shiro in, and right at the front amongst them, they see Dr. Holt and Matt. What follows after is a blur of hugs and tears.

Pidge breaks down as the family of three cling to each other in a mess of confusion and emotions.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t find you! I’m sorry I took so long, I thought I’d lost you forever and I kept trying but it was so _hard_ -”

Their hiccupping cries are crushing to hear, and Lance wants to gather them up and just bundle them away in warmth and safety. But he turns away instead, concentrating on talking to the other aliens to get them safely on board his Lion. It doesn’t feel good, ignoring his fellow Paladin when they need him, but he knows they have others looking out for them. Right now, he has to focus on helping the other prisoners and earn their trust enough to take them back to the Castle.

Dr. Holt, of course, is more than capable of taking care of his own child. He shushes Pidge in soothing tones, holding them close in a shaky embrace, and simply lets them cry as he does the same. Matt clasps Pidge’s hand, patting the other over their head as though to check that they’re really there.

“Katie, stop apologizing. I know you did your best to get to us. If there’s anything that gets you going more than tech stuff, it’s family. You found us, didn’t you?” Matt says, beaming in awe at his sister.

Pidge nods slowly, rubbing away at the tears on their cheeks. They take a measured breath, hold it, and then exhale, repeating it over and over until they’re calm again. Clearing their throat, they straighten up and look at their family, bright-eyed and determined again, like always.

“I’m taking you back,” Pidge announces, as though expecting someone to challenge them.

Lance pauses in his reassurances to the aliens and peeks over his shoulder at them, grinning as he watches them take charge of the situation. That’s the Pidge he knows.

“I gotta ask though,” he jumps in finally, raising a hand high, “How the heck did you guys get here in the first place?”

Dr. Holt, of all people, lets out a snort of amusement. He nods over to the control panel, and that’s when Lance notices the tied-up Galran soldier laying on the floor. The alien glares up at them sullenly, but does not speak.

This was who the Commander had been talking to earlier, Lance realizes.

“This fella thought it’d be in his best interests to take a ship full of Zarkon’s prisoners and try to buy his way to safety. I guess he figured our lives would make a nice bargaining chip, but…well, he was a little in over his head.”

The man quirks his head again, this time at a tall, stick-like alien standing amongst the others, who lifts a gangly hand in acknowledgement. Three other arms are wrapped all the way around her torso, and she quite resembles a strait-jacketed patient.

“Berill here can cloak herself to be camouflaged against nearly any kind of object. I suppose this Galran didn’t think to check the prisoner records to eliminate risks before he started transferring us to this ship. He didn’t see her coming at all.”

As though to punctuate the short tale, Berill snaps her fingers together and the tiny action is surprisingly vicious. She turns a dull purple-grey which flawlessly matches the walls of the ship.

Lance blinks at the display and reminds himself to warn the others to never cross whatever alien she’s supposed to be.

“What about you, though?” Matt asks, “I mean…what’s with the armour and, the hair? And how the heck did you get into space?!”

Pidge waves a hand, sighing.

“I think we should wait till we get to the Lions. I’ll tell you everything then.”

Lance turns to Pidge as they come to stand beside him, ignoring the puzzled query of ‘Lions?’

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

Pidge is silent for a second, until they throw him the biggest grin he’s ever seen them wear.

“What the fuck do _you_ think?” they laugh.

Lance can’t help but smile back as he shoves them with a friendly hip-check.

“Let’s go home, nerd.”

**

That smile only grows wider listening to Pidge tell their family the events that had brought them to space and Voltron. They keep it short because there’s just so much to tell, but it doesn’t prevent Dr. Holt and Matt from gushing with pride anyway. Lance half breaks down himself when Pidge hesitantly broaches the topic of their new identity only to get nothing but warm acceptance from the Holts.

The two former prisoners trail off quietly though, at the revelation that Shiro is in fact alive. Lance is nearly vibrating with the need to get back to the Castle as soon as possible.

When they are finally on board, the Team greet the Holts with enough enthusiasm to “throw off an entire flurry of Callidanopes”, according to Coran anyway. Shiro is strangely quiet, stepping back from where the others are gathered. Lance hates the look on his face, a mix of guilt and trepidation amongst the joy, and he wastes no time in shoving the Black Paladin towards the group.

Shiro throws him a dirty glare over his shoulder, but Matt and Dr. Holt’s reactions more than make up for it. Their eyes grow as wide as when they’d seen Pidge, but with a hint of horror, as they see the scars and the prosthetic arm. The young pilot they once knew was lost to the ship with which they’d reached Kerberos; the man in front of them was both a shade of himself and a whole new hue altogether.

“Shiro…?” Matt breathes out, as though he could hardly let himself believe it.

Shiro rubs a hand over the back of his neck, clearly nervous as he speaks.

“Yeah, it’s me. I…Matt. Dr. Holt. I’m _so_ sorry that I didn’t get you out whe-.“

Shiro doesn’t even finish the apology before they throw themselves at him, which is apparently becoming a tradition for their team.

Pidge’s father leans back for a moment to say “Son, haven’t I told you to call me Sam?” and he goes right back to hugging Shiro.

They’re relieved and happy to see him if the tears streaking their face are anything to go by.

“Katie…Pidge told us the whole story,” Matt murmurs. “You’re a hero. You’re a hero, and that’s that.”

Shiro stands stock still for a moment, then slowly relaxes into their embrace, face smoothing out as the weight of guilt almost visibly slides off his shoulders.

He winds his arms around them, tentatively at first and then tightly, pulling them close. His cheeks are damp with tears and for once, it doesnt seem like he minds.

Lance sighs in satisfaction. Keith makes his way over to him, bumping into Lance’s side amicably.

“Nice job,” he mouths, eyes soft as he watches the three men huddled together.

Lance grins, bumping back into him gently, mindful of his injury.

“Careful, Keith. Your face is gonna hurt, what with all the out of character smiling you’ve been doing lately.”

But even as he says it, he knows it’s not quite true in multiple ways. Once they’d gotten to know him better, and with a little prodding from Shiro, Keith had loosened up and revealed himself to be a surprisingly happy person. Which, _weird_. But also, strangely adorable. Keith had turned out to be a socially awkward dork underneath the thin veneer of the loner image he sometimes liked to project.

But recently, that happiness has become less and less apparent. Keith’s been aloof, like he’d been in the beginning, when Voltron was new and the team was a shaky mess of mismatched parts. Lance doesn’t know what the deal is, why Keith is reverting to his emo ways, and he doesn’t think Keith will tell him even if he asks. He has a feeling that it would only make Keith retreat further into his shell.

He’s glad though, when Keith simply rolls his eyes at him and huffs out an amused laugh.

They lean back against the edge of a table, gazes moving over each Paladin, their Altean friends and the other aliens who are elated at having finally escaped their imprisonment. One of them is even showing off some kind of aggressive victory dance, consisting of a serious of back flips and violent pelvic thrusts. Needless to say, everyone else appears to be backing far away from him.

Coran and Hunk had already headed off to the kitchen, probably to serve up some goo (or other inedible food items) for their new guests. Allura and Pidge stand together, discussing something rather seriously until Pidge breaks into a watery smile and hugs the tall woman around her waist. Lance could only imagine it was about accommodating Pidge’s family in the Castle. As though they would allow for any other option.

Lance sighs again, soothed by the almost unfamiliar atmosphere of peace. Things were looking up.

**

They settle into a routine soon after. Sam and Matt and the countless freed prisoners are in need of proper medical aid and nutrition, not to mention negotiating the return to their homes, but the Castle is still wrecked and repairs are slow.

Allura and Coran are the only ones with any knowledge on their ancient Altean technology, and the few surviving Alteans they’ve met and managed to befriend throughout their travels are much too young to have any idea how it works. Their own modern technology is drastically different from the Castle’s devices.

With much reluctance, they enlist the help of the Alteans and engineers from other alien species and try their hand at fixing and upgrading the Castle. Hunk and Pidge join in on the repair work, but the results are mixed to say the least and more than one fire has had to be put out.

The cryo-pods are thus out of commission, and their allies are similarly encumbered, their medical texts and machinery all lost to the war. It’s an increasingly inconvenient and saddening scenario, each time they realize exactly what the war has cost them. Without a choice, everyone resigns themselves to heal the old-fashioned way.

Naturally, it’s Pidge who takes it upon themself to help their family heal emotionally at the very least; having Matt and Sam talk about what they’ve seen and what was done to them is hard enough, and even Pidge finds it impossible to be unaffected as they listen. Still, they power through it for the sake of their family, and sharing their experiences makes a small but visible difference in lifting the weight from their shoulders.

**

Within another week, their little group is joined by the other freed aliens at Matt’s request and it becomes something of an unprofessional group counseling session. Sometimes Lance sits with them, if only to watch over Pidge and crack gentle jokes every now and then, when the atmosphere becomes a little too heavy for comfort. It doesn’t always work, but by then the aliens have become attuned to Lance’s intentions and they smile anyway, taking turns to soothe each other.

One day, Shiro shuffles uneasily into the room by his own volition and Pidge nearly cheers at seeing him. They keep themself in check though, watching as the other aliens spot the former Champion. The long silence that follows is tense, until a huge alien sitting next to Matt lets out a snort.

“Get inside here,” he grunts, following with a foreign insult which doesn’t quite make it through the ship’s translators. He looks surly enough to curdle milk but Pidge preens knowingly to themself. It was just a front for what was actually happening. It was acceptance.

Shiro walks in then, sitting quietly next to Sam, and the session goes on uninterrupted. When it’s his turn to speak, Shiro manages a few bare bone sentences on his time in the arena, a little about the end of the battle with Zarkon, before he goes quiet again. But it’s progress. It’s more than he’s said since he first came back from Galra hands, and the Holts could not be any prouder.

**

Keith goes back to training.

**

The sound of metal meeting metal is what draws Lance towards the training room when he’s passing by it while headed for the common room. He pokes his head into the room and isn’t really surprised to see the resident hot-head slashing away at the Gladiator.

He nearly walks away, but stops, thinking suddenly about how he hasn’t seen Keith around much since the last battle with Zarkon.

That can’t be right.

He remembers seeing him every time they ate, remembers arguing over some stupid detail, teasing Keith with some silly joke. It’s rare that they all eat together anyway, what with all the work in the Castle and in attending diplomatic conferences, in repatriating aliens and helping families unite. What was Keith doing in between all that, that Lance and the others have hardly seen him beyond lunch time?

Training himself into the ground apparently.

Lance sighs, debating his next step. But there’s no debate to be had, as Keith is practically operating on fumes. He’s panting hard, stumbling as he barely dodges a swipe from the gladiator’s sword which he should have easily avoided in normal circumstances.

“End training sequence!”

The Gladiator stops immediately and falls to the floor in a heap. Keith flinches at the sudden disruption in his training, but he recovers quickly, flinging an angry glare at Lance.

“What do you want?” he asks, reluctantly lowering his sword an inch.

Lance snorts, folding his arms across his chest.

“What do _I_ want? I don’t want anything. Wait, no that’s wrong. I want to know why the cheese you’re still training so hard. News Flash: We won the war, Zarkon’s gone and- “he interrupts himself with a squawk, eyeing Keith’s slightly off-balance stance, “Holy quiznak, _you’re still hurt, aren’t you_?”

Keith shrugs, turning his back to Lance.

“I’m fine. Coran stitched up the wound. And you never know when one of our supposed allies might turn on us or when we’ll come across more rogue Galras. I’m just keeping up with training.”

Lance aims a fish-eyed stare at the back of Keith’s head, completely unconvinced. He remembers again how Keith had collapsed from blood loss, once they’d reached the Castle after the battle. Shiro had had to carry him to the cryo-pods as he slowly bled out, only to find them trashed and out of power. Most of the Castle had been, honestly.

Coran had helped close up the gaping wound in Keith’s side, which had been worse than any of them expected. The only reason Keith was left standing at all was because the injury had been half-cauterized from the heated energy of the Galran plasma sword which had cut him in the first place. It was also the weirdest contradiction Lance had come across, because _come on_. Who stays standing after being brutally cut and burned at the same time? Ding ding ding, who else but Keith!

Shaking his head, Lance moves behind Keith and begins hustling him towards the room’s exit with firm hands on his shoulders. The stubborn idiot resists with a loud ‘hey!’ and tries to plant his feet on the floor but Lance just keeps shoving.

“You’re done training for the day, man. Come on, you’re going to shower, rest up, and then come have dinner with us.”

Keith keeps protesting, half-heartedly twisting around in Lance’s grip, but eventually gives up when they near his room. Lance suspects he wasn’t really trying that hard anyway.

Lance is satisfied when Keith shows up for dinner and sits next to Shiro grudgingly.

**

He’s less satisfied when he finds Keith back in the training room the very next day.

**

It’s Hunk who eventually thinks of simply establishing a system. Any time they think that Keith is overworking himself with training, one of them goes in to end the session and force him to rest and eat. It works relatively well, with each Paladin happily taking up the task as long as it gets Keith to take a break and care for himself. Allura and Coran join in with much enthusiasm, and Keith doesn’t have quite as much resistance towards their forceful attitudes as he does for his teammates’.

Surprisingly, the Holts also intervene sometimes, and most baffling of all is how Keith listens to them. Perhaps it’s his respect for their earnest advice, when Matt insists he take care of himself and Sam lightly scolds him for not being more careful.

Temporary as the solution is, it works well enough.

**

Three days into their proposed plan, Hunk finds Keith collapsed in the training room, the wound on his side bleeding sluggishly through his stained bandages to join the small puddle on the floor. The Gladiator has mercifully been disarmed already, probably by the lack of a conscious opponent.

As Hunk shouts for Shiro, Coran, _anyone_ , his mind races, wondering how long the Paladin has been unconscious here, how long it took for that blood puddle to form, how long he’s just been bleeding out like this. He gathers Keith into his arms just as the younger man shifts awake with a groan.

Relief floods through Hunk and he nearly slips over the blood-slick floor as he rushes towards the common room where the rest of the Castle’s residents would likely be found. The cryo-pods were still useless anyway and _why the heck were they taking so long to repair them_?

“Hunk,” Keith says, interrupting himself with a small pained hiss, “ouch… I-I’m fine, Hunk. You can put me down.”

Hunk nearly lets loose the hysterical laugh spiralling in his chest.

“Uh-huh, _yeah_ , not happening buddy. I’m taking you to the others.”

Keith is quiet, probably only because he has no breathe left to speak around the pain.

**

“I can handle it”, Keith says, voice shaking almost as much as his hands as they linger over the blood-stained bandages on his torso. He sits shirtless on the sofa in the common room, where Hunk had carefully set him down earlier.

The Holts had been having a rare moment of peace together, right until Hunk had burst in with Keith. They’d jumped up immediately, shocked, but were still quick to take action and call for the remaining residents of the Castle. Shiro had come running as soon Matt had mentioned ‘Keith’ and ‘injury’ in the same sentence, and the others had followed soon after. Now they stood behind Hunk, each of them staring aghast at Keith.

“It looks worse than it is. I’m fine,” Keith insists.

Coran sighs and walks off to grab medical supplies, serious in the face of the Paladin’s injury.

Shiro has the most inappropriate yet fittingly wild urge to shake Keith, wishing it would somehow make him see sense, but Lance cuts in first.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you? What are you trying to prove, huh?”

He’s absolutely furious as he marches towards Keith, who looks surprised by the uncharacteristic swearing. Shiro panics for a moment, wondering if he’s about to deck the Red Paladin of Voltron. Instead, Lance drops down to kneel next to Keith, slapping away his hands and peeling away the bandages slowly. Keith winces as the cloth clings to his wound but Lance is actually careful, all while he shouts something about irresponsibility and ‘macho mullet-heads being _so goddamn dumb_ ’.

“Isn’t that more your thing?” Keith jokes weakly, but it is absolutely the wrong thing to say as the entire room fills with the cacophony of angry voices. Lance shoots a glare up at Keith while Hunk flails at him, clutching his head in despair.

“You stupid idiot,” Lance bites out, even as he tugs out a bottle of what is probably antiseptic from the kit Coran provides him. He starts cleaning the reopened wound on Keith’s side, using a cotton ball slathered in the medicine. Keith sits helplessly, still looking completely bewildered.

It’s his expression that prompts Shiro to speak, and he tries his best to rationally show his displeasure. Lance and Hunk are doing enough freaking out for the whole team anyway.

“What happened?”

Keith shrugs mulishly.

“The bot got in a lucky kick. It just managed to hit the cut.”

Shiro tells himself that shouting at a teammate is most definitely not a good response to their issues, no matter how sorely they may deserve it. He lets out a long, _long_ sigh.

“Keith. You’ve had that wound for two weeks; it should have been on its way to healing by now, if you would just let it. What are you doing? Why can’t you listen to us and take better care of yourself?” he asks, and even Pidge cringes at the patented Shiro Disappointed VoiceTM.

Keith directs his gaze at the floor but Lance is right there, still looking personally affronted at Keith’s lack of self-preservation, so instead he looks off to the side.

Pidge speaks up then, words sharp as always.

“We didn’t go through an entire war together just for you to kill yourself with sheer stupidity, Keith.”

That seems to rub him wrong because he looks up again, mouth open to defend himself. But no one lets him edge a word in.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so focused on their training that they’d just willingly put themselves in front of a lethal fighting robot, while they’re injured!” Hunk shakes his head, and he keeps going, loudly talking over Keith’s attempts to reply.

“You’re going to seriously hurt yourself! Well, I mean, you already have done that, _again_ , but just imagine if we hadn’t been here to find you and patch you-“

Lance pipes in with a “Stop squirming– Dude, just let me wrap the wound already! You can’t even let us help you when we _are_ here-“

Keith lunges up from his seat, shoving Lance to the floor. Lance yelps as he drops the roll of bandages and falls back onto his butt.

  _“I’m just trying to adapt, alright?_ ”

The words echo in the sudden silence of the room, or maybe they’re just echoing in Shiro’s head. Lance slowly pushes himself up, dusting his hands absently on his jeans as they all gape at Keith.

Shiro sees him clench his fists at his sides; after all these years of knowing him, Shiro knows he’s trying to reign in his emotions, but it hardly works with the way his face contorts in anger and… sorrow.

“Adapt to what exactly?” Allura asks quietly. She steps forward but still maintains a respectable distance from the angry Paladin, watching him with concern.

One tic, two tics, and Keith huffs, uncurling his fists.

“I’m just… I have to be ready for when we get back to Earth.”

That…was not quite the answer any of them were expecting, though Shiro admits he really had no idea what he was expecting. Still. It was definitely not this.

“What exactly do think will happen on Earth that you push yourself like this? That you push us away?” Pidge asks, about two seconds away from exploding. Hunk grabs their shoulder, wordlessly restraining them as they wait for Keith to speak.

“I’m going to be alone.”

Shiro suddenly wants to kick himself very hard. Oh no.

Keith either doesn’t notice Shiro’s expression or he’s ignoring it as he keeps talking.

“You’re all going home. It’s all anyone can talk about these days and I…I know I’m too dependent on you guys right now, _trust me_ , I know. We’ve been a team for so long; it’s hard for me to change habits and I gotta start out fresh all over again.” He shakes his head when Shiro tries to interrupt him.

“I’m not upset about it, Shiro, I’m fine. But when we get back to Earth, I have to be ready to take care of myself, to defend myself, no matter what situation I’m in. I was…just trying to get used to it again.”

It’s honestly like a fist to the heart.

In the euphoria of winning the war and how busy they were afterwards, Shiro hadn’t had much time to think about home and family. Or rather, he’d done his best to avoid thinking about it again. His family would have been informed of his death, and Shiro wanted nothing more than to see them again after going so long believing he would never leave space. But he wasn’t sure they would receive him so happily after all.

He’d changed, undoubtedly, and not all those changes were pleasant. He was working out some of his issues even now, with Pidge and Matt and Sam’s help. But somehow, amidst pushing those thoughts down, he’d managed to overlook Keith as well.

He should have known, really.

Lance is speaking when Shiro forces himself to tune back in to the conversation, and by the look on his face he’s doing a poor job of staying calm.

“Oh, ’you’re not upset’, my _foot_! Where did you even come up with such a dumb idea, mullet? What, you think we’ll just _abandon_ you, after all this time? Is that all you think of us?” he says. The others nod in agreement, because surely Keith sees that they care for him? Surely this is just some mistake?

Keith purses his lips though, shaking his head slowly.

“You…you’re not the first ones t-to promise th-…ah.”

His voice breaks and his hands come up to scrub at his face because suddenly tears are falling and his breath is clogging in his throat. Shiro sees the bewilderment clearly, the distress as the tears keep coming and refuse to stop.

“I…I’m sorry, I’m fine… just give me a _second_ -“

All at once, Shiro thinks of a time years ago, back when he and Keith had still believed in the Garrison, in the thrill and beauty of the skies above them and the thought of one day reaching out to touch the stars.

Except reaching out had always been Shiro’s dream. Because he remembers sitting next to Keith under those very stars, clenching his fists as the young boy talked about being too _afraid_ to dream as Shiro did.

Keith had spoken almost perfunctorily about the last time a warm hand had held his own, just minutes before he was left standing alone in a mall at the age of 4. (She told me ‘Mommy will be right back, just stay right here and be good, sweetheart.’ She kinda just…stumbled, over her ‘sorry’ and ‘I love you’…Said ‘Be good for mama, alright?’ And I said okay. I would.)

The broken promises of his mother had blended into endless lists of foster homes and foster parents. Then was scramble to stay out of the way, be quiet, be good, just like he’d promised. And eventually, the unsettling realization that it made no difference, no difference at all to any of these people and then he’d no longer wanted to be _good_ , he’d lashed out instead because it was always him, they just didn’t want _him_ -

Shiro had hated it. Hated hearing that hitch in his breath and then the ‘I’m fine’ and the ‘it’s okay, I’m over it’. It was clear as day to him that Keith had never really gotten over anything, so much as pushed it down until he could pretend it didn’t hurt him; buried it until he could function just as well as any of them. But sometimes, those buried things came clawing up to bite him.

Unsurprisingly, Hunk is the first to reach out to Keith while they’re too stunned to move.

“I’m going to hug you, okay?”

When Keith only looks at him blankly, Hunk pushes past Lance and gently hugs him. Keith goes rigid but Hunk doesn’t back off, just places a hand on the back of Keith’s head, the other wrapped around his shoulders, holding him close.

Keith stands stiff for a few seconds. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he melts and sinks right in, squeezing his eyes closed and pressing his face into the steady warmth of Hunk’s shoulder. He slings his arm around Hunk, fingers clenching into his jacket.

“If you’d just come talk to us, you would have known that there’s no way we would just leave you alone,” Hunk murmured softly. Keith says nothing, and Shiro smiles when he sees those tense shoulders slowly lower and loosen up.

The strained atmosphere is suddenly a lot less restrictive and he feels like he can breathe properly again.

Keith is the one who breaks the hug and Hunk lets him go easily. The Red Paladin still refuses to look at any of them, but this time his cheeks are flushed in shame and embarrassment. He’s calm now, but Shiro can see he’s still not convinced, not yet.

Well, that wouldn’t do. And Shiro thinks that it’s about the right time for him to drop the role of a leader and go back to being Keith’s friend.

He sets his hands on Keith’s shoulders and pushes him gently back onto the sofa. Keith relents for once, tired from the emotional outburst and the jostling of his injury. Once he’s settled, Shiro kneels down as Lance had done and picks up the gauze and roll of bandages from where they’d been dropped. He mulls over his words as Keith lets him treat the wound, and finally speaks.

“Keith…I know that you’ve had a tough time before, that you weren’t treated as well as you should have been.”

Keith still says nothing, and Shiro wraps the bandages tightly, patting it twice before leaning back on his heels to look at Keith.

“I can’t pretend to know what will happen when we get back home. We’ve been missing for years on Earth, and we might have to fend off a ton of questions, even accusations. I have no idea how people are going to react to us, or what we are going to do after. But, I do know one thing.”

Shiro waits as Keith lifts his head, finally looking him in the eye. He lays a reassuring hand on his knee, imploring him to understand.

“You belong with us, Keith. Don’t ever doubt that. We’re all family and we have looked out for each other, since the first time we stepped into the Blue Lion. We’re not about to stop caring now. And we’re going to be with you the whole way. Can you trust that?”

Keith swallows, nodding, and Shiro is pleased to see a slowly growing conviction in his eyes.

“Dibs for first sleepover at my house!” Pidge thrusts their hand up suddenly, shouting, and the serious moment is broken all at once. Lance starts complaining immediately, protesting the ‘claim’ and he and Pidge squabble until Hunk separates them. Dr. Holt is positively beaming though.

“Well, since Ka- _Pidge_ ,” he corrects himself hastily, “Since Pidge has already declared it, I simply must insist. We’d be pleased to have you all over, once everything has been settled after our return to Earth.”

Pidge tackles him with a hug while Matt shakes his head, jokingly bemoaning their impending doom.

“Oooooh, then I get second dibs! You all have to meet my sister and my dads!” Hunk gushes.

Lance clicks his tongue with a loud tsk, throwing his arms up in defeat.

“Well, fine, but I get _third_ dibs. That includes you Keith, ‘cuz we decided to keep you a long time ago, remember? Nothing’s stopping us now, not even you!”

Keith simply blinks at him, opening his mouth only to close it again.

Pidge mutters something about ‘okay, but just know you’re not invited to our sleepover, Lance’, to which Lance responds with a highly offended ‘hey!’.

Allura sighs fondly as her Paladins laugh together.

“You’ll be seeing more of us too,” she says and the others turn towards her.

Coran hums, nodding happily.

“Quite right, Princess. Connecting with the Paladins’ people and all planets across our universe is quite pertinent to ensure the likes of Zarkon’s rule never happen again. And anyway, I’d like to see someone _try_ to keep us away.”

In the bustle of conversation that follows, Shiro sees the surprise on Keith’s face drop away to make room for a soft, painfully fond smile. Keith catches him looking and huffs a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I…I get it. What you were trying to say. And I’m sorry for not just… Talking to all of you…I guess a sleepover would be pretty fun though?”

Shiro grins and pulls him into his side, an arm around his shoulders, which startles him enough to not even protest. So sue him, Keith deserves all the hugs possible. And he certainly hasn’t objected yet.

“Sounds good, buddy.”


End file.
